Justified
by luthien-yavetil
Summary: What if you changed the ending of Toy Story 3? What if the toys never survived the incinerator? A tragic ending for toys who only wanted to experience love once more... Who is to blame? Well, Woody seems to have an answer to that.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there guys! Sorry for taking forever in updating Debt to Pay, but… uh… yes. There have been a couple of stuff keeping me busy nowadays. So instead, I'll repost here something I made in my Deviantart account for a contest! Sadly, I didn't win but… Ah well, who cares. Sorry again for not updating these past few months. I hope this can make up for it…?

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JUSTIFIED

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And he found himself forced into an uncomfortable wooden chair, ropes securing his hands behind the backseat. A hard sneer stretched across the convicted man's face.

"I expected better of you guys," accused Woody Pride. "Fix 'em. The average cow wrestler would be out the door and burnin' up the town by now."

They shared looks. And as Jessie circled around the table to adjust the bonds, Buzz pulled out a silver pistol from his belt holster. He glared hatefully at the cowboy, aiming dangerously at the space between his eyes. "In that case, the average cow wrestler would be dead by now."

Woody did not flinch the slightest, eyeing the weapon with amused benevolence. "What happened to that wrist laser of yours?"

The ropes tightened, digging deep into his skin.

"Better. Good job, Jessie. Anyway, Buzz," he continued. "I thought you'd be making good use of it, now that it actually works here and all."

As Jessie returned to his side, Buzz set down the gun on the table, keeping it well within reach. "I decided that I should keep up with the setting," he replied gruffly.

"Ah, that's right." Woody laughed. "Taking your job pretty seriously now, aren't you, Sheriff? Ain't that impressive."

Buzz ignored how Woody's eyes inspected the star-shaped badge pinned to the upper corner of his vest. Rather, he stole a glance at to his left. There, across the room, was a door. It was their only connection to the outside world.

A chant drifted through it, courtesy of the angry crowd outside. There hadn't been much when they first entered a few minutes ago, only about fifteen sullen people or so. But he had an impression the figure increased rapidly at each passing second.

He wished the good people would just go home and let them work in peace. They were going to know the results of the interrogation tomorrow anyway.

The town sheriff returned to the task at hand.

"Woody," he began with cop-like composure.

"'Mr. Pride', Lightyear. Keep up a professional tone to scare the chap on the hotseat."

Buzz's eyebrow twitched. Goodbye, cop-like composure.

"Woody," he repeated wryly. "Just what did you think you were doing?"

"I did the same things you think I did. I got rid of the Potatoheads, Hamm, Slinky… you know, those people in general?" Woody's smile remained unchanged.

They'd been patient with his snarky attitude since they captured him, but that was the last straw. Buzz slammed his palm down on the table, the force strong enough to send the gun to the air a few inches. But Jessie was the one who got her point out the most.

"Why in _tarnation _did you _do that_! Haven't you realized by now the _consequences!" _Her braid lashed about, no longer red-colored yarn, but fiery crimson yarn-colored hair."We're not _toys _anymore, Woody, we're – "

"Real?" he finished. "I know that just as much as you do, Jessie." The rugged cowboy didn't acknowledge her with his eyes when he said this. Instead, he looked around at the empty corners of the room with mild interest.

He changed much, Buzz noted grimly. Woody's skin had darkened from constant exposure to the sun, and his face sported lines that gave a live person signs of age. He was supposed to have started out as a young man in this place… but in the span of just two years, his physique was that of a completely different person.

Meanwhile, Woody obtained a pretty good read of his circumstances. Dark, cold and gloomy, he had to hand it to the couple for choosing this single-room compound to host their interrogation. And not only that, but they had the place near the main road. The pair probably weren't even aware of it, but it would be hard for even the most reckless of cowboys to cut a path when a torch-bearing and fork-waving mob barricaded his exit.

Finally, Buzz put a hand on Jessie' arm. They weren't going to get anywhere with their current line of interrogation, and better to rethink it fast.

"You're not wearing your hat," Buzz pointed out, allowing Jessie to pace and fume back and forth behind him. "Is it still… with that little boy that keeps playing around the pastures? He's quite a strange sight - I've never even seen his face since it's so big for him."

"You mean my son," Woody said calmly.

Buzz raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "You adopted him?"

"Yep," the ex-sheriff replied. "Took a big liking to the missus the first time he laid eyes on her. Wouldn't say we got along too well at first, but eventually got used to me in time. Heck, he would've made a great cowboy like his old man…"

Woody glanced unfathomably at Buzz's expression. "… until some people started sticking their noses into a respectable man's business."

"There's nothing respectable about what you've been doing, ya cracked loon," Jessie snapped.

"Jessie," Buzz said sharply.

Woody examined Jessie like she was nothing more than a stranger he just met on the street. He spoke slowly, "Speaking of kids, I heard the news…" He nudged his head towards her lower abdomen. "How many months until the little tyke starts tearing up the Sheriff's Office?"

Try as they might, Jessie and Buzz couldn't resist looking at each other and sharing a smile. It took a moment for Buzz to get his bad-cop face back on, but at least Jessie no longer seemed on the verge of wringing Woody to pieces.

"About four months," she proclaimed in her proud tomboyish manner, patting her stomach lightly. "Don't look like it, do I? Just you wait, in a few month's time I'm gonna be as fat as a cow in a haystack barn. Or a sponge in a tub of water. Or a space ranger in a –"

"I knew she was going to mention my weight one way or another," Buzz said, rolling his eyes. Despite his attempts, it was obvious he was just as excited as she was. Probably even more so. "Let's just hope she inherits her mother's good looks and not her attitude."

"_Oho!_ So you admit that she's a girl!"

This went up for a couple more minutes. But even so, the cowboy sat patiently through it all with a quiet, almost eerie, attentiveness.

He said solemnly," "I can tell you two'd make good parents."

The two beamed at him, temporarily forgetting the situation at hand.

Woody leaned back on his chair, appearing calm and comfortable despite his wrists and ankles so painfully restrained. "You know… Bo said just last week that she would've liked us to be proud parents as well. To a biological one, 'f course."

All smiles disappeared in an instant.

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Arrrrgh, so busy… BUT NONETHELESS, I HOPE YOU GUYS HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS! AND THANKS FOR READING! I'D APPRECIATE REVIEWS! CAPS LOCK IS ANNOYING. ONCE YOU HAVE ELIMINATED THE IMPOSSIBLE, WHATEVER REMAINS, NO MATTER HOW IMPROBABLE, MUST BE THE TRUTH! (what)

… Yeah, I finished reading Sherlock Holmes XDDD OH YES YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BBC MODERN VERSION IT IS WONDERFUL TOO.

RxR? Yes? :D

(Update: Ah... Sorry for messing around with something I already posted, but I thought that this story seems too long for a oneshot, so I'm just going to divide it into four chapters instead... Hope you don't mind. XP)


	2. Chapter 2

Buzz seated himself at the other end of the table, as if it showed just how sincere his upcoming words meant. "I swear on my life, Woody, burning your house down _hadn't been part of the plan_. This was supposed to be a bloodless event, only meant to scare you to come clean and surrender."

"I'd say you scared me, alright," Woody responded dryly. "But it doesn't change the fact that _my wife and son are dead_."

At that moment, a terrible, almost animalistic expression overcame the man's face. Jessie flinched, but Buzz couldn't say he was surprised. The way his eyes blazed, the deep unforgiving scowl of gritted teeth like a crazed lion – all were the understandable signs of a man that lost his greatest treasure. And in Woody's case… his entire family.

Then miraculously, he returned to the calm, almost uncaring cowboy that seemed to think of his entire situation as one big joke. He took to rocking the chair back and forth by its hind legs. "Any news about that, by the way?" he quipped.

"We… found Bo's remains in the kitchen area. She was barely… recognizable."

"Hm. Probably must've been getting ready to make that pot roast she promised this morn," Woody mused. "'Course, that'll never happen, now since she was the one that ended up roasted after what _your people _did…"

"Woody –"

"And what about my kid?" Woody's lifeless eyes flashed suddenly. "He okay?"

"No trace, as of yet." Buzz replied truthfully. "Thought it's probably because –"

"- he burned to ashes along with most of the house," Woody finished, frighteningly calm again and nodding as if he heard of this hundreds of times. "Don't need to go into full detail 'bout it. Saw the flames go up myself – could see it jumping o'er buildings from all the way in the middle of town."

He raised an eyebrow, an incomprehensible smirk on his lips. "Pretty bad timing for a bit of arson while the man of the house's out doin' the groceries, don't you think?"

Buzz tensed, holding back the intense urge to defend himself. It was a daunting experience, being accused by someone who you used to call a best friend… But his reasoning was silenced by the futility of it. Nothing he could say could bring back the lives of those two innocents.

And yet, Buzz realized. The same went for the dozens of other lives lost by the hardened criminal before him. Woody wasn't supposed to be passing the guilt trips here.

"Buzz."

The space sheriff blinked and turned slightly to his left shoulder. Jessie had been leaning over to speak in his ear.

"Oh, sorry. You need the seat?"

"No, not about that," Jessie dismissed before he could insist she take it. "Don't you think it's starting to get _a bit too noisy _outside?"

Now that he thought about it, the chanting was getting awfully loud… Scratch that. The sheer power of hundreds of angry voices was enough to send him reeling. He figured at least half of them must've come from that angry mob that stormed and devastated Woody's house this morning. Clearly, they were eager for more.

_"LET US AT HIM! LET US AT HIM!" _

_"HE ONLY GOT. WHAT HE DESERVED. HE ONLY GOT. WHAT HE DESERVED!" _

_"HE HAD HIS FUN! NOW IT'S OUR TURN!" _

So this was why she needed to lean in so close. "Want me to give 'em a good talkin' to?" she offered.

Buzz had a dozen and a half excuses to go against that statement, but picked the best one to amplify his argument.

"Don't be _ridiculous! _Think of the _baby!" _

Jessie rolled her eyes. She expected as much of an answer. But she smiled at her husband's concern anyway.

_"I'll _go have a world with them," Buzz continued and rose from his chair. Then he paused.

Although he knew it was county procedure never to leave a convict unsupervised, one couldn't blame him for having second thoughts leaving his pregnant wife with the job. And the quiet smile on Woody's lips unnerved him. It wasn't the face of a crazed, cold-hearted murderer… but rather, it was the same warm smile of long ago, back when there were best friends, laughing and treasuring the moments of being held by a child. It had been a good two years since Woody last smiled like that.

"You'd better go, pardner," Woody advised. "You know how everyone listens to you. It'll be a piece of cake."

Buzz looked at Jessie and, for once, she nodded in agreement with the cowboy. "It'll be okay," she said soothingly, then punched him in the arm like she meant it. "I mean, look at him! Pigs'll fly if he manages to get out of that, trust me. I'll be _fine!" _

Buzz sighed. Once she set her mind so strongly on something, it was useless to try and convince her otherwise.

"Alright," he said, spending a moment to nurse his injured arm. Then suddenly, he tugged on Jessie's hand, pulling her close, and, without warning, kissed her. Then he let go and started for the door without so much as looking back at either of them. "No fighting until I get back, got it?"

"Yes sir," the two chorused.

As the door shut, Jessie chuckled and shook her head, quite giddy after her husband's revenge just then. Despite the tragedy that befell all of them two years ago, she was glad that somehow managed to bring Buzz and her even closer together. And to even have them blessed with a child! These little blessings made life a bit more bearable, that's for sure.

Then reality brought her back to the fact she had a job to do.

And when Woody saw she had returned her attention to him, he again made his bright, friendly smile that troubled Buzz not too long ago. But Jessie wasn't falling for that so easily.

"What's on your mind, Jackeroo?" she sneered.

"Nothing much," Woody admitted, still idling and rocking his chair. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "So, how's my rootin' tootin' cowgirl been doing all these years?"


	3. Chapter 3

Holy heck, I haven't updated this in, like, forever. DDD:

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The noise had died down to a more bearable hum when Buzz stumbled back into their company. His first reaction upon seeing the state of the place was of incomprehension. Then confusion, realization, and finally, unmasked horror. There was no mistaking the fallen figure lying motionless in the middle of the room.

He would have doubled over with everything he had consumed since breakfast, if it weren't when a calm, resonate hand emerged from the hidden side of the door, and struck the back of his head with the butt of the sheriff's own gun. The man collapsed to the floor, instantly unconscious.

Woody pushed the rest of the door shut with the corner of his boot before anyone noticed the strange fall of their beloved town sheriff. He secured the lock as well, just in case. But he knew.

He knew that there would be hardly anyone occupying the streets after a row from Sheriff Buzz himself. Therefore, it would make that moment the most perfect opportunity of escape.

Woody pondered briefly over this possibility, but a single glance at his fallen victims was all he needed to make his mind. Rex, Slinky, Hamm, the Potatoheads, Bullseye… all had been taken care of, including, finally, Jessie. All he needed was one more to complete his purpose. And when else would the opportunity present itself like this to end it all with a bang?

He bent down and, with a surprising showcase of strength of just one hand of a skinny cowboy, lifted the space ranger from the red stained floor by the crook of his collar. Time was ticking fast, and there were a couple of things he wanted to set up before his favorite space ranger regained consciousness.

The look on his face was priceless. It filled his entire face not long after the space ranger came to and found himself on the same rigid chair Woody had been forced to just an hour ago. The only difference was that he remained untied. But that precaution soon became irrelevant once he realized just what he held in his arms. He probably would've made the most terrible and agonizing scream, if it weren't for the scarf that gagged him silent.

Standing across with a foot propped on an edge of the overturned table, Woody relished a short while of satisfaction until Buzz recovered enough to notice his persona was still there.

"You should thank me, you know," Woody informed calmly, weighing Buzz's gun on the palm of his hand. "I didn't even get to see Bo after what you did to her. At least I'm doing you the kindness of holding _her_ in your arms one last time."

It seemed as if Buzz tried to scream again, but just like before, no sound escaped from that mouthful of scarf. But Woody remained patient. Eventually, the oppressed settled to an exhausted silence, his dull stare windowing a broken spirit. And only then Woody untied the gag. There was no way a man as wounded as this would have the strength to be any more uncooperative.

"You done?" Woody asked cheerfully. It wasn't really a question. He already knew the answer.

"… You're a monster."

"I'm a fair man," Woody corrected. "I lost a wife and child, so it's only reasonable that you lose yours too. By the way, about your preparation skills…" He tossed the weapon playfully from hand to hand. "You've got to get this thing loaded first if you actually plan to use it in a real life setting, Buzz… Or is it that you never planned on using it on me in the first place? No matter – I still managed to use it somehow in taking care of Jess over there. The butt of your gun's pretty blunt, you know?"

"She did nothing to you," Buzz gasped. "And… what about those other innocents you 'took care of'? They did nothing… _Nothing _to deserve –"

"Au contraire, my man." Woody waved the gun in his face. "That's what they get for not listening to me. Y'see, Buzz, I've been a really patient guy… but I got to thinking.

"Whose fault is it that we ended up falling into that incinerator in the first place? I sure hadn't taken any measures to kill us all off – heck, if I had my way, we'd all be sitting safe and snug with the Christmas decorations in Andy's attic. Then _who_ in the _world_ is to blame for our unfortunate demise?"

A strange shadow clouded his expression. He pressed the gun to Buzz's cheek. "Simple. It was you guys. All because you never listened to a damn thing I said."

Buzz found himself saying things without thinking. "We _respected _you, Woody. And we did listen. You were our frie…" He couldn't bring himself to say the last word. Something just stopped him from going any further.

Woody pulled the gun away, irritated. "'Respect'? Don't make me laugh. I was just the bus-driving lackey making sure you kids ended up at the right spot. You put up with me, sure… But when you tear me off my rightful place, and start taking all the wrong roads…"

He knew Buzz would never understand. Two years ago, his so-called 'friends' snuck off to Sunnyside paradise, and from there a series of events led them to what they thought would be their final resting place as ashes in the bottom of a dump's incinerator. That should've been the end of it… until they all woke up in the middle of nowhere of a scorching desert.

And then they would've died again, if it weren't for one person they thought they never thought they'd see again: Mr. Shark. It had been years since he got sold at a garage sale. It was only natural that everyone started rationalizing that they were dead.

"Yer probably right," grunted Mr. Shark (Sheriff Shark at the time). "But afterlife or not, take a good look at yerselves, ladies and gents. Better not go losin' yet parts from now on - we can't have ya'll bleeding to a second death."

It was strange how inconsistently each transformed into their 'real' bodies in this weird afterlife. For instance, Bullseye just became a regular horse, whilst Mr. Shark boasted off his peculiar majestic self as a floating, air-breathing shark. As for Woody, he just became a regular human cowboy. The same went for Buzz and Jessie in their respective occupations.

Woody soon devised a formula. It seemed that he and his fellow toys were transformed into their 'ideal' selves –in other words, the forms they wanted to take if they had never been born as toys. And after observing for a few weeks, it seemed as if all the inhabitants of this entire nowhere had once lived in Andy's bedroom… and suffered their demise one way or another almost immediately afterwards.

But all this guesswork he threw away when Woody found Bo Peep. She never explained the tragic way she died. And never once did the cowboy bother to ask. It wasn't important. All that mattered was that they could start a new leaf, live their lives together again…

But of course, not all good things were made to last. A year since he was obligated to be their town sheriff, the townspeople rose up against him, stripping him of his post and granting it to Buzz. He was no longer sure what caused it anymore – something about a dispute between Hamm and Mr. Potatohead outside the saloon. One thing led to another, and the cowboy was eventually driven out of town, forced to construct his own property in the outskirts instead.

It was by some divine grace that his lovely Bo stuck faithfully by him the entire time, even going so far as to wear her brightest smile and saying 'yes' to becoming Mrs. Woody Pride. And not long after this, Woody found a lost little boy in the open desert, who eventually answered to being their son.

\ He was a sweet lad, but his memory was lost when he arrived in the godforsaken desert. It wasn't odd, though. Out of the five toys that arrived since Woody's own awakening, three forced themselves to forget almost everything in their past, mostly due to the trauma of their own death. Even so, this little boy was a special case. But the Pride couple did not dare speculate any further.

"…When…?"

Woody snapped out of it. "Pardon, pardner?"

Buzz raised his head, his face pale and weak. If one touched him, he looked like to just crumble to pieces. "When did you start… being like this? Didn't you even think of the welfare of your son…?"

"It's because of that kid that I've become what I am now," Woody responded, smiling warmly at Buzz like he just asked a silly question."I realized that when he grows up, would I want him to be treated the same way I was? Call it irony; I was _treated like a toy by toys!_

"I played my role to the best of my abilities, and then what happens when everyone gets tired of me? You throw me away. By a child, sure I'd understand… but being treated like that by my own people? Do you have any idea how _humiliating _that was? Now do you _see_ why I had to get rid of the scum that would _terrorize my son_! _Well, Mr. Lightyear!" _

Buzz flinched.

"I told you the formality would pack a punch. And again, all because you didn't listen to me…" Woody sighed. "Hmph. I guess none of it matters anymore, now that he's dead and all."

"Do you even have any idea why we took your position away from you, Woody?" Buzz said quietly. "Because you weren't a tool or a driver. You weren't any of those… you were just a plain, old dictator."

Woody glared. "I only thought of your own good –"

"– and never let us think for ourselves!" Buzz exclaimed angrily. His voice had risen for just a brief moment. But in then the next, he looked even worse than before. He held onto the unmoving body of his wife even tighter, as if somehow, someway, it would let him see her bright green eyes smiling back at him.

"Everyone was sick and tired of your attitude… Just because you had been Andy's favorite the longest…" He bent his head, his voice barely a whisper. "We just wanted freedom."

"And it's because of that kind of democracy that we all died in that incinerator," Woody roared. A wild rage, ugly and uncontrollable, blazed through his features. But he made no move to strike Buzz. Instead, he forced himself to speak calmly, his breathing heavy. "Karma. _Now_ do you understand? They deserved it... _You deserve it._"

Woody had fallen so far into the depths of a darkness that it would be impossible for anyone to pull him out of it. Finally coming to realize this, Buzz closed his eyes. "Fine… Just get it over with already. I can't… go on like this."

There was no response for a moment. Buzz thought perhaps Woody had never seen a respectable grown man crying before. Then to his surprise… the madman began laughing.

"You're expecting me to take care of you with _this!" _Woody waved the shotless pistol before Buzz's face yet again. "You've got to be… haha, not with _this, _Buzz!"

An evil smirk stretched the corners of his mouth. "I don't want it to happen slowly – that would just be doing you a favor. Having all your good memories flashing before your eyes and all that nonsense? I'd rather not risk that. No, no, it needs to be fast and as painful as possible – not too fast though, so you'll have time to realize how suddenly everything could change in a single second.."

Silence settled into the room as Woody carefully pondered over his final victim. "The problem is…" He slowly put on that same smile. The smile of long ago. "How'll I go through with this? Got any ideas?"


End file.
